Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) (56 page)

Nisa dropped her hands completely. “You
seem sure.” She said.

“
As sure as I can
be.” He crossed his arms, and continued, “I was given this task to
perform, of spying upon Lord Fobata, to prove myself as a loyal
citizen of Arria, but then I went a step farther. I prompted this
servant rebellion, to ferment dissatisfaction into greater
disorder, to destroy the infrastructure of Coe Aela, and destroy
Lord Fobata’s ability to function as a Follower of Doomba. He
cannot turn around and hire more servants instantly. Training new
people, if he can find new people who will accept positions here,
will be difficult to say the least. Coe Aela will fall apart.”
Janus smiled.

“
You seem cocky.” She
remarked, eying him askance.

“
Maybe I am a little,
but I know what I am doing here, and it is the right thing this
time.” He said, going towards the kitchen door. “After all of the
years of wrong, awful decision-making. Will you be joining us,
Nisa?” Janus asked, turning towards her as he opened the door. “We
are about to march out of Coe Aela, after all, and this could be
your last chance to get to Coe Kiki ahead of or just behind Basha,
Oaka, and their friends.”

“
You certainly didn’t
know what you were doing when you joined the Followers of Doomba.”
Nisa muttered, following after him, “And I certainly didn’t know
what I was doing, getting involved with you.” She muttered, glaring
at him as she went out the door.

“
Believe me, Nisa, I
will prove myself to you,” Janus said, closing the kitchen door
behind them. “I will prove that I have what it takes to be your
true love. I will do whatever it takes to reunite you with your
charges, Basha and Oaka.”

“
True love? Truly?” Nisa asked
hesitantly, staring at him as they went down the steps into the
front bailey, where all of the servants of Coe Aela were gathered,
shouting at the few guards arrayed against them, on the ramparts
and on the ground in front of the gate with the portcullis lowered.
More guards were coming from the back bailey, the barracks, along
the ramparts and from inside the castle.

She couldn’t believe that he was talking to her like
this, so soon after revealing himself to her. Most likely it was a
diversion, intended to throw her off guard and keep her unbalanced,
but she needed to keep herself focused on what had to be done, who
needed protection at this time, and what she could really do to
investigate Janus and stop him from doing anything wrong, when she
had limited resources, very few allies she could trust, and so many
people here who needed help. Gods, she had to think straight.

“
Truly, I promise.” Janus said as
one servant shouted out a name, over and over again, until a guard
dropped his sword in horror. Two more servants, and then three
more, and then about a dozen more started shouting out names, and
then guards were dropping swords right and left before joining the
servants. “Let us go join them,” He said, grabbing Nisa’s hand and
pulling her towards the crowd. She was helpless around him
sometimes, and allowed him to control her, but only up to a point.
She would make sure that he didn’t get too far out of
line.

“
My guards are fraternizing with
the rebels!” Fobata bellowed from where he stood before the front
doors of Coe Aela’s castle, next to his clerks and assistants. “Can
someone please explain to me why all of my men seem to be
deserting?” He turned, glaring at them.

“
I should have realized this might
happen.” Marlo the steward said with a sigh from where he
stood.

“
What are you talking about?”
Fobata growled, turning to him now.

“
Do you remember how, six years
ago, King Sonnagh reduced military expenses for the entire
kingdom?” Marlo asked. “One of the measures was less funds allowed
for the payment of guards’ wages at the ducal castles.”

“
Oh, yes,” Fobata frowned. “I seem
to recall that Goga was complaining about such wage reduction.
Without funds from the king, we would have to pay the guards
ourselves, and so we had to reduce the wage. And then some guards
quit--”

“
At which point, your Grace, your
brother Goga advised that it would be cheaper to recruit young men
from amongst your servants to be your guards. They would not know
that they were being underpaid, compared to other guards, and might
even be glad that the wages were higher than--”

“
Oh no.” Fobata said, slamming his
hand into his face.

“
That’s right, quite a few of your
guards are the sons, brothers, nephews, cousins and friends of the
servants,” Marlo said, pointing, “And those servants started
calling out for their friends and family members to join them in
this revolt.”

Fobata lowered his hand, staring out at the scene.
“Let them out.” He muttered.

“
Pardon, your Grace?” Marlo asked,
staring at the duke.

“
Let them out!” Fobata cried, and
several servants and guards stared back at him. “If they’re so
eager to go, and get away from this place, then let them out!” He
cried again, and the servants cheered as the remaining guards
obeyed their lord’s orders, and started to raise the portcullis.
The first few servants, and allied guards, started to pass through
underneath the portcullis, leaving Coe Aela behind them.

“
Excuse me, your Grace, I won’t be
but a moment,” Marlo said, going down into the crowd of servants.
Fobata glared after him as he went towards Janus.

“
Look around you, Nisa, this is a
joyous celebration!” Janus laughed, waving his hand at the crowd.
“Everyone is happy, not a drop of blood was spilled, and it was
just perfect.” He said with a subtle uplift to the corners of his
mouth--a smile or a smirk?

“
Are you sure? The steward is
coming over here,” Nisa said, pointing.

“
Just wait a moment, Nisa, I want
to go talk to him.” He said, pushing through the departing crowd to
meet Marlo in the middle of it. “Hello, Marlo,” He said.

“
Well, Janus, I just wanted to say
that you certainly did fool me. I never did catch you in the act of
planning or preparing for this rebellion.” Marlo said. “And it was
a little less than two weeks ago that I spoke to you about
this.”

“
I know. I had to move fast, and
strike before the month was gone,” Janus said, nodding as he
glanced around. “We had to gather up our forces and our supplies in
short order, while the memory of Goga’s incarceration of the
servant women was still fresh. If we had waited too long, and
hesitated to take action, the memories of that latest indignity
would have just faded away, to the same old hardship that people
have to suffer, and we would have lost our chance to seize upon the
furor.”

“
Well, good luck to you, Janus,
and take care of my servants.” Marlo said, reaching out to grip
Janus’s hand and shake it. “Tell Ravona that I love her, and that I
miss her when you see her again.” He said.

“
Why don’t you go tell her that
yourself? Come with us,” Janus said, “And see your daughter and
grandchild. The servant rebellion has succeeded, we’ve got guards
on our side to protect us on the march to Coe Kiki, and we even
have some horses,” He pointed towards the stables, where some
guards were seizing their horses to take with them, “If you can’t
march. Fobata certainly couldn’t stop you if you wanted to come, so
why don’t you?”

“
Because I’m too old to spend days
marching out there in hot and cold weather. Because my bones might
break, my steps might slow, and I might grow so weary that I
couldn’t carry on, and I wouldn’t want to take a horse away from
somebody else who might need it.” Marlo said, “I would slow you all
down, and I wouldn’t want that. I want you all to go on out there
and enjoy yourselves without me, seize the day, and find new lives
for yourselves.”

“
Marlo, Marlo, I’m older than you
are, and I’m going.” Janus said.

“
No, Janus, no. I’m different from
you, you’re younger than you think, in terms of strength and
vitality. I’m older. I’m too old now to change my ways, and I’m
still too committed to Coe Aela to abandon it forever. Somebody has
to stay behind to help Lord Fobata take care of things here, and I
am still that man. My daughter would not like it if my allegiance
still remained with Lord Fobata, so why bother her about it? Let
her be happy without me, she probably won’t see me again.” Marlo
said.

“
You’re too stubborn, Marlo, just
like her. Good-bye, Marlo.” Janus said, shaking Marlo’s hand one
last time before he turned away to rejoin Nisa as they went out the
aperture with the rest of the servants, many of whom
sang:

“
Give praises to the season of
Plig,

As we sow our bright futures in the dirt--

Never forgetting the former Sna season,

when harsh clouds of snow reigned.

Sing this song and hope for bounty still,

Remember how Za and Wan also plowed,

And reaped their own benefits,

Upon the land that belonged to them alone.

When our seeds are firmly planted,

Then we will walk forth with bearing--

Never running, across the fields

With the cadence of our hearts beating.

We shall head right of the rising sun,

To the shelter of Mother Earth,

And to the welcome of her golden sons,

To reap the benefit of our bright futures.”

“
I’ve never heard this song
before. Where did it come from?” Nisa asked Janus as they walked
into the forest.

“
It’s a code song.” He laughed.
“We made it up when we thought we would be leaving the harsh
oppression of Coe Aela during the Plig season—actually, Gnat made
up most of the words.” He said. “‘We shall head right of the rising
sun’, south from the eastern direction, ‘To the shelter of Mother
Earth, And to the welcome of her golden sons’. Coe Kiki was named
after the mother of King Marvola, a queen of Arria.” He
said.

“
That does make sense. Quite
clever, actually.” Nisa remarked as they faded away from Coe Aela’s
view.

“
I know. Gnat does show promise.”
Janus sighed as they vanished into the forest.

“
Good-bye, Janus.” The old steward
said, watching him go before he turned back to rejoin Lord
Fobata.

“
Thank you for staying.” Lord
Fobata said to Marlo as he approached.

“
Don’t mention it,” Marlo
muttered, going past his lord and back into the castle.

“
Well, I suppose we shall have to
adjust ourselves to the absences of our servants,” Lord Fobata
said, turning to his other clerks and assistants. “Find some way to
organize ourselves to maintain the castle and our living
standards.” He paused a moment to think before he commanded them,
“Scrounge up whatever food stuffs you can find in the kitchen, and
then we shall have a breakfast meeting this morning, as soon as
possible. We need to assess our situation financially as well, to
see if we can hire a few more servants and guards to help us out
here, preferably those unfamiliar with this place. So bring your
ledgers to the grand banquet hall as well. You are dismissed.” He
said, and the clerks and assistants went out to follow his
orders.

The duke of Coe Aela went back
inside, to be confronted by his last remaining guests from his
birthday party almost two weeks ago, the freeloaders who would not
go away, no matter what happened. But after he told them all what
had just happened, that all of the servants of Coe Aela had just
deserted, and now they would no longer be getting the kind of
service that they had come to expect from Coe Aela before, the
guests had started storming off, grumbling to themselves as they
probably planned to pack up and leave as soon as possible. That was
one good thing about the servants’ rebellion, repelling the
freeloaders.

He entered the grand banquet hall,
empty of anyone except himself at this time, and began to pace back
and forth as he waited for the clerks and assistants to arrive
here. He should have been braver, and refused to let them go
without a fight, instead of giving up to them so quickly and
easily, he thought to himself. He should have stood up to them, and
said--delayed rebuttals began to swarm his mind, rebuttals that he
could have used against the servants, instead of just letting them
go with a few short, sharp, swift words. But now they were gone,
too far away to hear his scalding words, or to be affected by his
anger. He was left on his own, to fend for himself, and no one was
on his side.

Lord Fobata sat down at a table,
tired of pacing when it got him nowhere and did little good to
relieve his stress, but he was still restless, angry at himself and
his impotence. He reached down into his coat pocket and tugged out
a white handkerchief with crimson stitching, which had ‘K&M’ on
one side, and ‘Blessings, Your Sisters’ on the other. Holding it up
to droop across his hand, he stared at its crimson stitching for a
moment, remembering Kala, the woman, his second or third or fourth
cousin, who had given it to him so many years ago. What would she
think of him now?

“
It’s a wedding favor, for guests
who came to my wedding,” Kala said, pressing the handkerchief into
his hands, “See the stitching? The Sisters must have worked for
hours on this one and the others.” She pointed out before she
turned around to close the flap on her pack. “But you get one
because we had so many left over after the wedding. Would Goga like
one, do you think, for when he comes back?” She asked, looking back
at him.